it continues...30/30 pt dos!

#24 (1/3/2009)-Poetry, A Letter

wasn't aware that there were rules applied to free expression

i'd like to just talk and let words flow

call that poetry

but apparantely my words aren't big enough

lines not long enough

messages not deep enough

and metaphors aren't metaphorical enough

I don't have the right rhythm to spit you amongst ready ears

so many rules

for something that was discovered without them

so I apologize, poetry

I can only continue to be

but the feeling must be mutual

because you allow me to be

don't trip when I miss a line

or when I take too long to reach a point

I'm getting your message across

just let me be your instrument.

#25 (1/4/2009)-Tainted Promise

the universal heartbeat had to be revived

your announcement threw everything off balance

my world danced to the tune of your drum

but unbeknownst to me, the drumming ceased

causing me to stumble

and in this incident I realized I've grown dependent on you

needing my fix

and regretting the person I become when it's not near

you've become my music, a necessity

knowing that for just one moment it could've been wiped away has potential to kill me

but the drums start again

while you and I dance on glass

stepping lightly and slowly

silently praying that we can both find the tune again.

#26 (1/5/2009)-I Wish I May

she used to wish on stars

sending all her focus to the brightest of them all

took that philosophy and applied it to life

"star light, star bright; first star I see tonight..."

first star I see tonight

first star I see tonight

no one told her that she didn't have to give all her energy to one star

let alone the first she sees

tell her to hold on to her wish

gaze at all the stars

the one for her may not be the first

possibilities are limitless in the skies

so her choice is hers for the making

any one of those stars should be blessed to have her wish

just as any is willing to take it

but she has to be careful

take advantage of discernment

it may not be the first star she sees tonight.

#27 (1/6/2009)-Wait List.

Dear You,

it's been a while since we've talked

now let's skip the specifics

i know what this is about

crowding the screen of my smart phone with your dumb ass questions

"how's life?" "how you been?"

all filler; the warm up to the matter at hand

you wanna know a lot of things

but the question that pulses in the front of your mind

never to leave your lips, unless uttered in some incoherent, secret coded fashion

"you still, um...intact?"

"made that move yet?"

and a personal favorite

"still locking it down?"

you no longer have permission

to even have the balls to ask me this question

lack of patience canceled out your like for me

causing my tolerance to dissipate

but I thank you anyway for showing me who you really were

almost laughed when you said you'd wait until my say-so...

who told you my say so would be for you?

holding on to my last piece of me

and you just want a piece of me

so I'll continue to cradle what's mine

grab onto it like you would your nuts

spit my excuses like you spit your game

because that's what it's turned into

cheap trinkets leading to the top prize

news flash: movie tickets, paid dinners, bells and whistles

approval by your closest niggas

even meeting the woman who brought you into this world

won't bring you into mine

takes much more

so simple, but if you can't figure out

you're certainly not what I'm looking for

so just think

it could've been you

to venture to an unchartered land

make my body quake with the softest touch of your hand

mark your territory by putting your lips on places

then laugh later about my "during" faces

but I won't say too much

it's been a long time

and we've lost touch

all I can do is smile

at a lame attempt to learn about something

that was temporarily worth your while

suffering from Til It's Gone Syndrome

and a horrible case of raging testosterone

besides

if you'd really like to know "how" I am

do yourself a small favor.

ask my man.

#28 (1/7/2009)-Challenge

Someone tell Satan

To come harder than this. Back

to the drawing board.

#29 (1/8/2009)-Forestry Melodies

from your veins to mine

take me on a ride

drift on clouds as I float away

I wish not to come back

this is where I belong

self discovery is prevalent in this place

taken to the conscious of my conscious

true self resides

escape to new planes through your vapors

a burning sweetness enters lungs

secretions of carelessness seep through me

show me what's really trivial

who's to blame me for wanting this rescue

the real world is far worse than this

but you help me temporarily forget

thought I would keep you to myself

but others sing your praises

guess they need the same help

it's a love/love relationship

you and I

I'm stuck to your side

you stick to my hands

let those ignorant bastards say what they please

we both know what's best for me

try to keep you away

you're a moneymaker

and there are some who will abuse you

but they will never appreciate the experience

as we do

you're everywhere

and I can't be all those places at one time

but I can in my mind.

#30 (1/9/2009)-Career Day

it's almost his turn

hearing the same aspirations back to back

has made him tired

everyone wants to be nurse

football or basketball player

and every now and again

lawyer is thrown in the mix

but today's his day to wow the crowd

4th grade mind already equipped beyond his years

he steps up to the front of his class

faces his peers

burgandy uniform pants etching detailed stories of yesterday's play date

and his shirt is transforming to a slight beige

but his notebook is spotless

chest held high, eyes straight ahead

he braces himself for laughter

what he's about to say is utterly ridiculous

"When I grow up, I'm going to be President."

the room falls silent

searches his classmates' eyes for approval

and is surprised to see all smiles

waits for teacher's predictable snicker

and hears nothing

but sees the single tear drop from his teacher's eye

the silence lets him know

it's now possible

it can be done.

Whew! I finally finished it! Every poem has been sitting in my journal, waiting to be typed since the 9th. But...you know what I said earlier. Anyways, I hope this 30/30 has been pleasing to you, and if it hasn't...*shrug* don't know. I will say it was a challenge for me, but I will most definitely be doing this again soon.

(deuces.)

btw: If you're a new reader and you haven't had the chance to catch up on my 30/30, or have no idea of what the hell I'm talking about, click these links and get on the ball!
1/30
2/30
3/30
4/30
5/30
6/30
7/30
8/30
9/30
10/30
11/30
12/30
13/30
14/30
15/30
16/30

as promised...30/30 continues!

*Don't judge me. I know I took a minute, but if you read my mini disclaimer a few posts back, you should know that this takes time, focus and energy to type. I'm going to compile the rest (14 poems!) into 2 posts. Read, comment, and most of all...enjoy!*

#17 (12/27/2008)- Black Panther

Left fists raised in air

Serve as a bridge for lost souls

Back to the Motherland.

#18 (12/28/2008)-Speak No...

It's the little things

Body language and signals

To say "I love you".

#19 (12/29/2008)-Untitled

Dreams with no standards

Like mind's playground left idle

Devil can play now.

#20 (12/30/2008)-Kinte Cloth and Moonstones

Sitting while others stodd to salute the flag

Just in 2nd grade

Marked different since before she could remember

Home specially tailored into her school uniforms

Made her an easy target for school bullies

But at the same time illuminated her individuality

Now, the things she was teased for

Is what has made her well known

Popular in her own way

While others struggle to stay on the radar.

#21 (12/31/2008)-Body Talk

Funny how we don't need words anymore

Simple nouns and verbs

phrases in Webster's

Can neither define or confine what we have

love bursting through pages

so let's make our own

watch attentively

you'll learn all you need by simply looking at me

just as I watch you

feel my heart flutter after I kiss your lips

and I smile to watch your body sigh

saying you love me without saying you love me

cherish the twinkle in your eye when you've missed me

tightness of your embrace telling me you need me

a love beyond words

spoken so loudly

but no words are ever heard.

#22 (1/1/2009)-The Kitchen

I shake my locs, yeah

Feel just like a lioness

When I do it, too.

#23 (1/2/2009)-The Kitchen (Extended)

they're free when I can't be

defying the laws of media

very rare that you see these on tv

follicle breeds into follicle

strands tight enough to break teeth

no comb breching through here

and please, don't get it confused

my locs are in no way fashionable

adorning my head like a crown

make a statement without making a statement

history in each root

fusing my mind's energy for all to see

flowing past my shoulders

creating their own dance as they finally curtain my back

doubling as a cape and shield

like samson

here is where I harness my strength

so requests to touch are easily denied

no one is just granted access inside

my locs represent something that is never fully understood

me.

poem 16/30: announcement (haiku #3)

"i love you" is not
a magic phrase to get legs
open. try again.

poem 15/30: little crimson waves

"you know you can't get it back"
her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind
playing like an ironic soundtrack
no time for mother's wisdom
she must focus
he smiles above her
"you sure you're ready?"
she isn't, really
but his sincerity in asking
brushing the stray hairs from her face
looking directly into her eyes
makes her more ready than ever
a slow nod serves as her green light
she holds her breath to prepare
stories told to her about searing pain the first time
made her apprehensive
he assured her that he would go slow
the bass in his voice makes her thighs quiver
or was it nerves?
closed her eyes while he guided his hands over her untouched, inexperienced body
sigh of relief escapes her lips as she watched him reach for protection
each step further makes her heart pound harder
a small whimper escapes her throat
she's parted for the first time
the only thing that was hers now belongs to someone else
with each thrust making her more and more a woman
in a little girl's body
no need to regret anything
mommy already said she can't get it back.

poem 14/30: another poem about you

haven't known you long
but i can write about you as if i've known you forever
you've been walking along the path of my future
waiting to meet me
it's almost as if you watched me go through pain
frustration
confusion and hurt
understood those temporaries
and did exactly the opposite
i requested one thing from you
in return you gave me the world
your world.
kisses dance on my lips
making mental soundtracks to fit every moment we've spent together
even the cheesy moments get honorable mentions
"you miss me?"
"baby, i miss you when i blink and you're right in front of me."
levels of corny only we know
serve as laugh tracks
set to cue during the dramatic/traumatic scenes
break the uncomfortable silence
things to look back on, only to look forward
too
i now quench for those moments
bring back the normalcy
my appetite for you is insatiable
and it's because you make it so
giving me your all
one piece at a time
leaving me something to look back and cherish
and once again
look forward to.

poem 13/30: is it a crime?

if she could just steal some more of his time
"I know I can make him mine"
laid out a plan
walk is more seductive
speech sexy, slow
all for a man she doesn't know
trained herself to go with the flow
common sense and dignity are void and fargone
one night stand?
she could settle for that
because she knows he'll be back
just one chance is all she needs
get him hooked, reel him in
but little does she know, he won't be back again
that sparkle on his fourth finger, left hand indicates hurt to come
reality will set just as quickly as the sun
and just as sure as she is about having him after one night
he's just as sure that he's going home to his wife.

poem 12/30: big words (haiku#2)

get my attention
by using words with more than
just two syllables.

poem 11/30: shorty

her short skirts
tight jeans
cleavage broadcasting shirts
loud moth
suggestive eyes
swaying hips
and "fuck me" pumps
do not necessarily or literally imply just that
her actions may not be an invitation
but a cry for help.

poem 10/30: heart.beat.

a year and a half into life
you struck into my heart
from daddy's hands to my ears
we've become inseperable
my way of life and my signature
who I am
i can say anything through you
each note vibrating through chakras
reinforce the heartbeat
you flow through me then reach the hearts of others
remind them of who they are
and if i stop playing, i am no longer myself
and if you stop, the world will cease to breathe
you represent a vital organ
and while i march to my own tune
root notes always lead me back to you
dancing on polyrhythms like blood flowing through veins
some hear you and are forever changed
what's funny are the people who claim they've never seen or heard of you
or closed minds who say you're for one kind of people
but all they need to do
is unlock the furthest recesses of their mind
and they will find you
watered down through hiphop and popular music
but those who truly know you
hear you in the shortest of songs
cherish you
like the very air we breathe
and feel you
like the very stick striking the head
feeling every single drop of blood flowing through the heart.

poem 9/30: en vogue (haiku)

just because you switched
up your game does not mean that
you will get the goods.

poem 8/30: dreams of Paris

God forbid the day I meet you is at your funeral
heard your name only one handful of times
pieced together my own vision of you
army man with a country accent
and even though you hate him, i'm sure you look like daddy
but you could be none of those things
what i am sure of
is the fact that we're blood
my oldest brother
product of a rolling stone and a young mind looking for affection in the wrong places
now a known unknown
find myself wondering if i have any nieces and nephews
living in the same city as me
missing out on play fights
real fights
and "boy" talks
you were supposed to teach me what you know about the birds and the bees
tease me when i peaked puberty
be the threatening looming presence at the seeing off of my first prom
but your mother planted a seed
and you nursed it on your own
hatred for father spawned your eventual disappearance
it is I who wants to know you
I am a product as well
not the problem
do not run from me.
there's still time
be the threatening looming presence to the man I want to marry
give the piggyback rides you owe me to your future niece and nephew
be my blood
all i need is an introduction
at least a genuine mental picture
curious to see who you look like
whose habits you've picked up
lefty or righty
blue or white collar
so many things to learn about someone who should be here
my brother
a complete stranger.

poem 7/30: bars

i barely remember your voice
but i do remember
thick plated bullet proof glass
baritone notes busting through static filled phones
mommy just wants to hug you
wrinkles in her forehead displaying her distaste in this place
but her children need to know their blood
uncle was always in high spirits
despite the circumstances
victim of "wrong place, wrong time"
beautiful mind confined to an 8X8 cell
no windows to feed you light
designed to break your spirit
but in my young age, I already admired your strength
i was only 7, jabari was three
you loved us like you made us
told mommy not to be so hard
encouraged my banging on tables, pots and pans
critiqued my poetry, told me to keep writing
you passed your passions through the bars to us
to keep yourself alive
never got out when you were supposed to
mommy whispered to daddy while at home
you were fighting everyday
self defense
so security at its maximum was your destination
gave all of yourself to us
like you knew you were leaving soon
and when you came home, you were finally Freed a couple of years later
Jabari's too young to remember your funeral
but let mommy tell it
he acts just like you
evidence that you're still here
and i keep writing
drumming
teaching
living
for you, beyond the bars.

poem 6/30: we real cool '08.

we pop shit. we
shoot quick. we
need love. we
worship drugs. we
die for fame. we
don't change. we
stay the same. we've
lost our names.

btw: Gwendolyn Brooks? Dope.

:o)

poem 5/30: untitled

i tried to write you a poem
but the words you need to hear will never make it to paper
told myself i'd just tell you later
but thoughts run wild; i watch my emotions fade like vapors
i tried to give you the world
put my life and love on a silver platter
spun the moon and stars on the tips of my fingers
showing you and the universe my devtion
only to trip and fall into your abysmal past
feeling a void because i gave you my world
but i stepped into yours and someone else was already there
i gave you my essence
life
heart
love
i gave you me.

poem 4/30: family reunion

"You know Man's locked up"
Laughed at the irony of that statement
Man never became a man
Came to that fork in the road and turned back when he decided to touch her with his man-child hands
Took advantage of her admiration for him
Little tomboy got a fave big cousin
Things appeared to be all good, but really wasn't
Tainting her innocence with his ignorance
He didn't know any better
Turning her childhood games into future backstories for therapy sessions
She never wants to play "house" again
Introduced her to things she shouldn't know about
Until she begins to question them on her own
Grown up roles, but neither of them is grown
Pissed off every time she went to his house to see his mother wasn't home
Didn't know what this thing was
But knew what your aim was
Showing her that she's already mentally too much for you
Man's in a Man's body
With a boy's frame of mind
She feels sorry for him
Nearly a grown ass man
Taking something he should get from his future girlfriend
Wife
Fuck buddy
Whatever
From a little girl's forced touch
Then get around the family and pretend you loved her so much...
too much.
She wouldn't eat at family cookouts
One look from him would have grilled food hitting hot pavement
Reminding her of that pissy ass basement
Something she's done hard to repress
But hearing his name today reopened that hole in her chest
All she can do is continue to live
And over time find the will to forgive
She just prays no breakdown when she sees your face
And hopes his memory won't smudge out her future husband's place
Such a stain on her life she wishes to leave in the past
"...you know Man's out now..."
And she just laughs.

poem 3/30: uninvited.

and he let her in
no promise of future meetings made
no strings--the way he likes
knew what
or who
he was getting into
her thick thighs and wide hips calling to be touched
he happily obliged
he infiltrated
penetrated
strangers no longer so
sharing lust, sweat
them
touch
pleasure
never too much
she understands the unwritten rule
so when he gets right up, it's second nature to keep her cool
keeps a crooked smile
for while it was both worth their while
his life is forever changed
a friendly fuck with a face but no name
some script just flipped
but who's the master of the game?
filled her with his seed, but she's still empty
and he may feel accomplished
another day, another conquest
...he is simply a target
a pawn in the wrath of a woman scorned
carrying the burden of life and too many children unborn
no one knows her story
but those who come in contact quickly become chapters
her center touched before before
playing the same game
different day, different name
once sacred place turned into stomping ground for hungry egos
sweet secretions have become venomous
stinging the member of the members of her not so exclusive club
and he let her in.

(deuces.)

poem 2/30; the acrostic: elementary contradictory.

He whispered the "perfect" words, and with his hands
Used the right touch
Read her mind with his body and became her one. Now,
Tattered dignity and memories remain in the wake of his fabricated love.

And so it begins: Poem 1/30

I've decided to jump right in and start this 30/30. I wanted to further challenge my intellect by restricting myself to a theme (maybe?), but I think I'll just freewrite and up the ante on my next go round. Yes, I plan on doing this again. Talk about mental calisthenics?! If you're one of those people that gets told to "write it down" a lot, you should definitely try this out. It doesn't necessarily have to be poetry; are the rules really set in stone? Are there rules at all?

I've procrastinated enough. Here we go...

Who Will Tell Them?

that long before they were a thought in mommy and daddy's eyes

we made the Earth spin with a snap of our fingers

spun the stars from our black hands into a black sky

we are He who created above and below

we are the In Between

who will tell them

that we mastered the sciences

built pyramids from sand

the secrets of mathematics ingrained in our lands

all fell at our feet to learn what we know

multi dimensional spiritual beings with no limit to our growth

who will tell them

the black man to run the white house is only one small piece of our puzzle

one minute result of the constant struggle

surviving bondage like no other people

great leaders shot down because they preached we're all equal

who will tell them

that the whole world fears us

taking ownership of what we taught them

erased from all history books; even our potential is too powerful

mind is the rarest of gems

producing thoughts and ideas more precious than time itself

who will tell them we've been bred to be afraid of ourselves

the three fifths mentality ringing louder than freedom's bell

turned us into a word to bring us down

but your mind is too sharp; watch you turn it around

who will tell them their education is doomed for a reason

facts hidden because tapping into yourself is taboo; forbidden

tell them they have to find it on their on, awaken the warrior inside that's been sleeping too long

who will tell him that he does not have to be another statistic

that there really are more of you in college than there are in prison

tell him that he is the 2nd time Jesus has Risen

tell him men who looked like him once ran empires

mental will always grow too strong, so just for him they build jails

they don't have to be sport figures or rappers, fashion designers or actors

possibilities are endless because we birthed them

tell him his blood is of the first biologist and heart surgeon

who will tell her

that "video ho" is not her predestined titled

that what's in her will someday make her someone's idol

tell her that she is designed after Mother Earth

nurturing the world before her own birth

tell her that the tv is not a mirror

she is the creation that spawned beauty itself

but media butchers her image, take advantage of her wealth

tell her that her body is built as is for a reason

that behind her eyes lies the ability to change the very seasons

tell them

they are not only descendants but the infinite coming of greatness

it is more than our style that gives people reason to hate us

that there is no logic or honor in holding their heads down

God spoke you here, and on your head He placed a crown

tell them when they are called other than the name they were given

that person is hurting the very world that they live in

thell them they shouldnt be afraid to let anyone know who they are

their ancestor's determination brought them this far

tell them that even their pigment is a wonder

the thing that divides us all, is what also brings us back to one

black and brown skin mimicking our close relationship with the Sun

tell them not to retaliate with more hate

there's no need to bother

for them hating us is like a child hating his Father

tell them that they are Shaka, Tut, Nefitiri, Martin, Malcolm, Angela, Angelou, Biko, Selassia, Kuti, Garvey, Makeba, Huey, Cleaver, Hughes, Assata, Giovanni, Pryor, Mac, Hayes, Obama, Mother Moore, Cosby, Cochran, Ashe, Robinson, Davis, Jr., Poitier, Pittman, Parks, Till, Evers...

their history goes deeper than that of the deepest wells

tell them.

but first, we must once again tell ourselves.

(deuces.)

30/30, 20/20 and updates; oh my!

For those who enjoyed the holiday last week, stuffing yourself until your pants opened up on their own, great job.

I'm going to try and keep this brief...
Just took a look at my blog and realized that I haven't posted anything...well, personal...in a good while. I mean, my blog is titled "Oooh, Hecky Nawl; That Guhl Is Raw." for a reason, and according to the tagline I typed for the description, I'm supposed to be guiding you readers (sans seatbelt) through my random, turbulent, awesomely awesome music-filled life. However, the past few weeks for me? Not enough time in the day, not enough emotions in my mental bank or for my hormones to handle, and ultimately no time to blog unless it was something nonrelated to my stressful life--at the moment. Between work, more work, performances, personal problems and holiday time, something had to be left on the back burner. What's been going on, you ask? Allow me to bring you up to speed:

-Spent some time in Philly with the fam. My cousin is a student at UArts and she had a performance/final to put on, so everyone (check the picture) drove up to see her. I enjoyed the whole show, seeing other students pieces was pretty fun, but her piece stole the show. She really made her sister proud. Filling up half of the theater was pretty hilarious as well, all the chairs marked "Reserved for Wombwork Productions, Inc." LMAO, the families of the other students were livid.

-Thanksgiving was wonderful. Dinner at two houses? I won't complain. Didn't really eat much, but the time for family fellowship is always welcome to me. My best friend's also been in town, so I got a chance to hang out with him; and my cousin finally came home from Frostburg State University for the holiday break.

-Nu World was presented with the opportunity to perform for the Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He came to Baltimore to speak about outreach programs in the city. He was very excited to hear "music from home", as we did our very best rendition of a Miriam Makeba classic; a South African freedom song that literally translates "our mothers prayed, and because they prayed; we're still here, we're still fighting and we'll never give up the struggle for total freedom." Awkward moment: the whole event was held in a Catholic church, so after the choir sang their songs, and we performed...no applause. Weird. Very funny man, I swear. He had us (Nu World) cracking up as he practically shat on America, saying things like, "Your country is very funny, yes? What other place can you go where someone drags a man behind a truck, then elects a man of African descent as president?! Amazing!" or "First you have 700 BILLION dollars...then...poof! It's all gone! How?" I enjoyed being in his energy, he's a political icon, and now one more person I can check off of my "People I'd Like to Meet" list. This year alone I performed for the Last Poets, met Amiri Baraka, and now I can say I've performed for Desmond Tutu. Now, if I could just touch the hem of Angela Davis' garment...lmao. She's #1 on the list.

-Got some new specks. Ahhhh, yes, I'm a tad visually impaired. Only a tad, though; I'm not required to wear my glasses all the time, only during long periods at the PC and reading. I think they look pretty neat. The best part about them? F-R-E-E! Yes, I did get up at 6:30AM to make sure I got a free eye exam and free glasses. Free. My favorite word. Ha.

-And finally: Scuba Steve. Wowwwww. We've really been through it since 11/15. I've felt like I've been holding my breath for two and a half weeks, but as of today, everything is okay. Well, not okay; but better than what they've been. We've both got a lot of work to do. I won't go into details about exactly what happened, but I will say that I've matured significantly during this off time. Something from the past (read: before we were together) came back and almost kicked both our asses. Mentally? We were both screwed. A very emotional time for us both. We've even lost a few pounds due to stress. The thought of me having to let him go, and his thoughts of losing me were too much for us to handle. There's that double edged sword I was talking about. This issue was a good bulk of my sort of absence from...well, everything. I pretty much alienated myself from everyone and everything for the first few days, then gradually worked my way back as we tried our best to move along. Scuba and I are basically starting over. *sigh* But...I really believe it's all worth it.

Wow. That was nowhere near brief. LOL, sorry. Last thing, though: I've been promising and promising some poetry for you guys for a while now, and now it's time for me to shit or get off the pot. After doing some brief research in my hometown, I've come to the conclusion that no one has heard of 30 poems in 30 days. However, it won't stop me from doing my own! So after this post, the next blog you see from me will be Day1/Poem1, up until I've reached my 30 days. Thanks to Riv for posting her blog a while back and sparking my interest. Until next time...

(deuces.)

btw: for those who have asked or are wondering...yes, the picture at the top of the blog is me. The good ole days... :o)